


Written in the Stars

by TillyAnn



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27461914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TillyAnn/pseuds/TillyAnn
Summary: It's the three year anniversary of Paul's death and Ben isn't coping. When Pam rings, asking if he's bringing a plus one to her and Les' 40th wedding anniversary party, he says "yes" without thinking.There's just one problem. He doesn't have anyone to bring. When Lola and Jay set him up with Callum, they agree to help each other out - they'll be fake dates for each other, but how close is "fake" to a reality they both want?Aka Fake Date AU!
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell, Jay Brown/Lola Pearce
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83





	Written in the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Jenn for looking through this for me! :)  
> It was extremely appreciated!

_Disgusting._

_I’ll hold your hand if you’re that interested mate, all you need do is ask._

_Ben, stop._

_You think you’re funny. You’re disgusting._

_What? Your Mrs not doing it for ya? Sorry mate, we don’t do threesomes._

_Ben, leave it._

_Why should I? We’re doing nothing wrong?_

_I just want to get ho... Aghhh!_

_Paul! No! Stop! Paul!_

“Get you another?”

Ben was jolted back into the present day, the colours and bright lights of the Albert slowly fading back into view.

 _‘Do you believe in life after love?’_ blaring out into the packed nightclub, mundane voices of drunk men and women droning along. Ben scoffed at the irony of the words. Memories of three years ago, of another time, another life, still swirling in his mind, making his vision swim if he blinked too hard.

He turned his body slightly towards the voice from where he sat at the bar. Looking down at the glass that he held in both hands, and spinning it slightly between them, only just realising that it was empty of its contents, unsure of when he'd finished drinking the amber liquid that had once resided in it.

“That a no?” The voice enquired again, looking ready to turn away. Ben looked him up and down, not his usual type, slight stubble, casting a shadow across his face, brown eyes that seemed too dark, zig zag pattern cut into the side of his hair, clearly someone who went to the gym, the tip of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar of the slightly too tight white t-shirt he was wearing.

Paul's face came into view again, contorted with pain, his own voice screaming Paul’s name. He winced, shaking his head in an attempt to push it all away. Ben needed this, needed the change, someone so different he could forget about the life that he had ruined.

“I’ll have another whiskey if you’re buying.”

The man nodded, gesturing to the woman behind the bar, ordering their drinks, before turning his attention back to Ben. He leant in closer, his mouth at Ben's ear, ready to whisper. His hearing aid whistled, and the man stopped, staring at the object as if it offended him. Ben's eyes sharpened, glaring, growling. He wasn’t in the mood for this tonight,

“Problem?”

The man just sneered at him, before turning and walking away; leaving Ben to pay for the two whiskeys that were placed in front of him. He poured one into the other, before raising it to his lips and draining the glass; he relished the burn at the back of his throat, fighting back against the involuntary shudder.

Another reason he was wrong. Another reason he was weak. Another reason why he was destined to be alone.

He snatched his jacket up from the seat next to him, before stalking out of the nightclub into the fresh summer air. It was dark now, meaning it must be gone 11. A smattering of stars were visible in the sky, twinkling alongside slow moving, wispy clouds. He glared up at them, watching them wink down at him, standing guard, daring them to judge his actions, as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and swiped on the first person who appeared. He didn’t care who it was. He just wanted someone in his bed, someone who he could use to help him forget the one person he couldn’t help but remember.

*****

When Ben woke up the next morning, fighting against the glaring sunlight to keep his eyes open, his head felt like it was going to explode. He was relieved to find he was alone, the nameless guy from the night before already making himself scarce. He grabbed his phone, squinting at the screen, his heart plummeting when he saw the name of the only person who had messaged him.

_Pam._

He couldn’t bear to read her message, swiping it away, another reminder of everything he’d ever done wrong. Out of sight, out of mind.

He dragged himself into an upright position, grabbing the tablets he kept in his bedside drawer, gulping them down. He closed his eyes against the wave of nausea that passed through him at the movement, laying himself back down again.

No one around him had remembered. No one.

He hadn’t expected his Dad to, who Ben sometimes thought was glad that Paul was no longer around. It meant he was only confronted with his son’s sexuality on the rare occasion he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, as his latest hook-up left the house, when his nose would turn up in outright disgust, reminding him just how little his Dad actually thought of him.

His Mum was too caught up with the Cafe, with The Albert, with Ian, with Bobby... With everyone except him. He seemed to be the least important in an extremely long list of people. She didn’t do it on purpose; he knew that, but it hurt, burned in his chest, in exactly the same way his Dad's looks did.

Jay and Lola had noticed his mood darkening daily, asking him what was wrong, wanting to know what they could do to help. But they hadn’t remembered Paul, hadn’t remembered the significance of today. It hurt more than he wanted it to.

It felt like Paul was drifting away, out of everyone’s minds, whereas he was a constant in Ben’s. He was reminded of him every time he saw Jay at work in the funeral parlour owned by Paul’s grandparents; every time he looked down at the scar on his finger caused by the tattoo he’d burnt away in his grief, regretting it ever since; every time he went into the park and sat at the bench where they'd shared their first kiss; every time he wandered round the square, memories of Paul holding his hand, his laugh ringing out around the market; every time he went into The Albert and saw men surrounding him, holding hands, joking together, having the one thing he could never allow himself to have again.

His phone’s ringtone punctuated the air, killing the silence of the morning and stopping his spiralling thoughts. He shoved his hearing aid in, the smaller noises filtering back through now. He could make out the birds singing in the trees, a dog barking in one of the neighbouring houses.

He sat up, glancing over at where his phone resided on the top of his bedside cabinet. _Pam._ Not content with leaving him a message, she was now ringing him. He was extremely aware of his own hypocrisy; pissed off at everyone for forgetting, yet doing his level best to avoid Paul's Gran, who obviously _had_ remembered.

He let it ring out, letting out a sigh and telling himself to stop being a coward, as his phone buzzed to indicate she’d left him a voicemail. He closed his eyes, raising his hands up to meet them, digging into them with his palms and letting out a groan.

Picking up his phone, he opened his texts, hovering his thumb over Pam's name, before finally pressing down and opening the message.

_Pam: Hi my sweet boy. I know what’s running through your head right now and I want you to stop. Remember Paul. Remember the happy times. He’d want you to. We love you. Pam and Les x_

He felt a stray tear make its way down his cheek, brushing it away with the back of his hand, as he brought up the voicemail and placed the phone to his ear.

_“Ben, I know you’re avoiding me. It’s happened every year since, and like the last two years I won’t stop pestering you til you answer me.”_

She stopped to laugh, and Ben realised how much he actually missed her. This woman who, despite everything, had taken him into her heart.

_“I just want to know you’re ok, to remind you to stop blaming yourself, to stop drinking to blot everything out. It won’t help! Les says hi. Remember we love you. Ring me. Text me. Write me a letter. I don’t care. But you best get back to me young man. Mwah!”_

She blew him a kiss and an automated voice replaced her, he saved the message, turned off his phone, and vowed he’d ring her later, once he’d slept off the hangover and, he realised, once he’d stopped crying.

*****

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time he finally woke up, but the sun was much higher in the sky and his head no longer felt like it was being split in two.

He swung his legs round, reaching for his glasses and phone, taking a deep breath, before doing what he should have done sooner.

Pam picked up almost instantly, the sound of her voice echoing in Ben’s ear and making him feel happier than he had in days.

“Ben! You’re improving, last year it took a whole week to finally hear back from you!” She laughed.

“Sorry, Pam, it’s just...” He trailed off, not knowing how to put the way he felt into words. There were no words that could describe the deep, crushing sensation that seemed to bear down on his heart, making it hard to breathe, hard to function. He also knew he didn’t need to. Pam would get it, would understand. She felt the same way, despite the fact, Ben acknowledged to himself, she appeared to deal with the feeling a lot better than he did.

“I know, Ben. It’s hard. I don’t need to tell you how difficult it is, but life goes on, you know? Paul wouldn’t want you sat around moping.”

“I know, it’s just, if I hadn’t… mouthed off, kept me mouth shut… and every year it just replays in my mind, on a loop, a constant what if I’d just _shut up_ for once.”

“Ben.” Pam's voice came through, soft yet firm, stopping him in his tracks. “It was not your fault, and you need to stop blaming yourself. We have this same conversation every year, but please try. Do you understand me?”

The silence that followed was tense, Ben not sure how he could make a promise he knew he couldn’t keep, how he could stop the guilt that he’d survived from overwhelming him.

“Ben?”

“Yes.” He whispered. “I can only promise I’ll try.”

“Well, that’s good enough for me. How is everyone? How’s Lexi?”

Ben felt himself smile. The sound of his daughter's name always making him feel better, her hugs the only thing that could settle the storm raging inside him. Yet, it pained him that the only reason he'd decided to find Lola, and bring her and Lexi back into his life, was because of Paul’s death; a stark reminder that life was too short.

“She’s good, Pam. I wish Paul could’ve met her. She’d’ve loved him.”

“And he’d have loved her, I’m sure. He’d be so proud of you, Ben, of the man you’ve become. I’m proud of you.”

Ben didn't hear those words often, and he felt his eyes fill with tears.

“Thank you.” He let out on a whisper, voice cracking slightly.

“It’s true, Ben. You’re capable of and deserve so much.” She coughed, clearing her throat, as her voice grew tight, before declaring,

“Right, time for some cheerier news. Les and me, we’ll have been married 40 years end of September. We’re having a little get together to celebrate. We’d love for you to be there. Do you have a plus one you could bring, I hope you do, Ben. You promised me last year you’d get yourself out there again.”

He had promised, and he had got himself out there. Just not quite in the way that Pam had suggested and was hoping for.

“Well?” She asked again, tone hopeful. Ben wasn’t sure why he did it, what quite possessed him to utter the fateful words,

“Yeah, I’ll be bringing someone.”

Before he could take them back, Pam was responding with a little too much enthusiasm,

“Oh, Ben, I’m so happy for you. You deserve it, my sweet boy, you really do. Listen, you’ll have to tell me all about him.”

_Shit._

“I will, Pam, I promise. I’ll, erm, I’ll give you another ring in a couple of days, it’s just I’m due to meet my mum in 5minutes...”

“Oh, of course, of course. I won’t keep you, but I’m holding you to that. I want to hear about this new man of yours. Oh, Ben, this is the best news, really. I’ll speak to you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too. Speak soon.”

He hung up, throwing his phone next to him on the bed and standing, pacing the length of his bedroom, trying to remain calm. _What had he done?_

He grabbed his phone,

_Ben: I did something stupid. Help!_

_Lola: What’s new? Meet you at the café in 10 xxx_

_Jay: When do you ever not do stupid things? See you shortly._

_Ben: Thanks. I think._

*****

“Mate, I’m so sorry. I didn’t... I should have known...”

Ben shook his head, waving off Jay’s words.

“It’s... Don’t worry about it. Honestly. Speaking to Pam, it helped a little. Just hearing her voice, knowing she understands... I avoid her calls every year, but then I remember how much they help and then I wonder why I don’t just ring her in the first place. But I’ve messed up. You’ve got to help me.”

“Still, I’m sorry, it should o' clicked, I should’ve remembered. I’m an idiot. You need to learn to tell us, let us help.”

Ben smiled, sadly.

“It’s not in my vocabulary that, mate. Anyway, that’s not the important part of this conversation. What am I going to do about Pam’s anniversary? What possessed me?”

He threw himself forward, resting his head on his arms in front of him, letting out a moan, as he heard Lola stifle a giggle. He raised his head long enough to send a glare in her direction.

“Serious question. Why can’t you just, you know, tell Pam the truth?” Jay asked, shrugging.

“Yeah, you could literally just tell her you’re bringing Jay and she got the wrong end of the stick.”

Ben shook his head at Lola’s suggestion, sighing.

“I can’t. You didn’t hear her, Lo. She was so pleased... I can’t let her down again.”

“You wouldn’t be...”

“Please. Can you help or not?” Ben cut Lola off, rapidly losing patience, pain starting to spread across his forehead again. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, _I know,_ it was stupid. But what do I do?”

Jay and Lola looked at each other, a grin forming on both their faces, having a conversation with their eyes that Ben was not privy to. He looked at them, suspicion rising in his chest,

“What?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, we sort of do know someone...” Lola started.

“No!” Ben’s eyes grew wide. “Not a chance.”

“Look, Ben, you’ve never _given_ him a chance. You’re the one who doesn’t want to tell Pam the truth, so you need to find someone who’ll go out with you, and quick. You don’t really have much choice. He’s a lovely man, and you’d be lucky to have him.”

The _him_ being referred to was Callum, an old co-worker of Jay's, and one of Lola's best friends. He was now a police officer at Walford Station, and they’d met all of two times. Neither occasion had gone particularly well.

The first had been at Jay and Lola’s housewarming party. He knew Callum hadn’t been out long, and someone had assumed they were together. Callum had instantly muttered that “ _just because we’re both gay and in the same room doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship,”_ before avoiding any kind of eye contact and walking away.

The second had been at The Albert on a night out with Jay and Lola. Ben had got spectacularly drunk and invited Callum home with him. He’d woken up the next day fully dressed in bed, no sign of Callum anywhere. It was pretty obvious what the other man thought of him, and for good reason.

He investigated petty crime. Ben participated in petty crime. It was no secret to the residents of Walford who Ben Mitchell was. A copper wouldn’t look twice at him, for any reason other than to nick him, which is exactly what he told Lola; Callum was in no way a feasible option.

*****

Forty-eight hours later, Ben found himself sat in Walford East having spent far too long picking out his outfit and wondering what the hell he was doing. As bad ideas went, this was one of his worst. He felt sick, and the smells of the kitchen wafting towards him weren’t helping. He’d ignored another call from Pam earlier in the day; this date had to go well.

“Ben?”

He stood up and span round at the sound of a voice from behind him.

“Callum.” As he locked eyes with the man in front of him, he felt his breath hitch at the piercing blue eyes staring back at him. Unexpected, but not unwelcomed. His hair was styled in a quiff, which Ben couldn’t deny suited him, and he was wearing obscenely tight trousers. He was taller than Ben remembered. Ben made a point of clearly looking him up and down. Callum coughed, arm gesturing awkwardly towards the table.

“Shall we sit down?”

“Unless you have somewhere better to be, probably a wise idea.” Ben smirked, while Callum just nodded, moving round Ben to sit at the chair opposite. The last time Ben saw Callum, he was sure he hadn’t looked this good; it had thrown him.

“So…” Callum said, looking anywhere but at Ben. “Lola said you work at the car lot?”

Ben narrowed his eyes, unsure where this was going. Callum was more than aware who he was, he’d arrested his Dad before.

“Let’s not pretend you don’t know who I am, Callum. Every cop from here to the centre of London knows the Mitchells, and not because we’re fine upstanding citizens.”

Callum’s cheeks flushed pink,

“I know your name, Ben. I know words on a screen, but I wouldn’t be here if I thought that were really you. Lola and Jay, they clearly have a lot of respect for you. There has to be a reason for that.” He took a breath, and finally looked Ben in the eye. “So, Ben, Lola said ya work at the car lot?”

Ben stared, unsure what to say, reminders of Paul telling him he wasn’t his past, that he could be more than his name, whispering in his thoughts.

“I… Yeah, I work at the car lot. The Arches too, from time to time. Help my Dad out.”

“I don’t know much about cars, they drive me where I wanna go, and that’s about it.” Callum grinned, his eyes creasing at the corners, as he crossed his legs under the table, kicking Ben in the shin. Ben grimaced, and Callum’s eyes widened comically. “I’m so sorry. I forget my legs are that long sometimes.”

He uncrossed his legs, kicking Ben for a second time as he did so,

“Sorry. Again.” He looked shocked, as if he wasn’t sure how he’d managed it.

“It’s fine,” Ben let out a small laugh. “Do you know what you want to eat?”

Callum shrugged, glancing down at his menu,

“Anything you’d recommend?” He asked, wafting his hand towards it, knocking over the pot of salt, sending it flying across the table and covering Ben in white grains.

“Lola failed to mention you were so clumsy…” Ben laughed, incredulous, as Callum rose from his seat, rushing round to him, attempting to brush him down with the back of his hand, stammering out an apology. Ben grabbed his wrist, stopping Callum’s movements in their tracks. He could feel Callum’s pulse underneath his fingertips; his heart clearly racing.

“Callum, it’s fine. I promise.”

Callum looked at him, eyes unblinking, questioning. Ben smiled before he could stop himself, unsure why he was so calm at what had transpired, both of them frozen in their positions, momentarily forgetting how to breathe, how to move.

Realising he still held Callum’s wrist in his hand, Ben reluctantly let go. Callum blinked, once, before returning to his seat; the blush on his cheeks had now travelled down to his neck.

“In answer to your earlier question,” Ben said, once they were both settled back in their seats. “I’d recommend the Chicken Tikka.”

*****

Despite Ben’s earlier worries, and the disastrous start, the date was going a lot better than he’d expected. Callum, it turned out, continued to be clumsier than Ben thought it humanly possible for anyone to be, and as a result, he now had white wine down his trousers and his shin was definitely going to have a bruise. He found the trait far more endearing than he probably should.

They’d both told stories about their jobs, Ben leaving out certain incriminating details, and they’d both laughed at the situations they’d found themselves in. Ben was actually beginning to enjoy himself, allowing himself to have fun, thoughts of Paul a little niggle at the back of his mind. He was feeling strong enough to keep the black cloud that had taken residence over his head at bay, for the first time in days.

“I can’t believe you told the poor girl you were actually gay on your _wedding day_ though!” Ben laughed. “And here was me thinking sleeping with a girl to prove I was straight then getting her pregnant was extreme.”

“It’s not something I'm proud of, Ben.” Callum forced out; voice strained.

Ben stopped laughing, feeling compelled to apologise, which shocked him. It wasn’t something he did often.

“Sorry. I weren’t suggesting... I mean...”

“It’s fine. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me more about you, when was the last time you dated anyone?” Callum asked.

And, just like that, Ben’s shutters came down, his chest tightening, eyes sharpening, voice turning cold, as thoughts of Paul came back to the forefront of his mind.

This was a stupid idea, Callum was a cop, he was sweetness and light. Ben was bitter, and dark, and didn’t deserve anything good. Not anymore. He would only serve to dim the brightness that shone out of Callum like sunshine. He ruined and tainted the things he touched. Callum must know that, deep down. He’d hadn’t turned him down twice for no reason; he’d seen his police file.

“Don’t matter. I think it’s time we left.”

He saw Callum’s face fall, confusion clear in the look he sent Ben’s way.

“I don’t understand… I thought…”

“Don’t think too hard, Callum, it’ll only end with you throwing something else down me. If you wanted me out of my clothes, you could have just asked.” There was an edge to his tone he couldn’t control.

Callum shook his head, confusion morphing into something else.

“Ben, if I said something wrong…”

“Let’s just pay and go, yeah.” He waved over the waiter, avoiding all eye contact with Callum, closing his eyes against the shame that rushed through him.

It was only after they’d paid and left the restaurant, standing awkwardly in the square, which was eerily empty, the only sound being the leaves on the trees rustling in the wind, that Ben realised he needed to bring this back somehow. Otherwise, he’d have to just bite the bullet and tell Pam the truth, which was an option that he _really_ didn’t want to have to take.

“See ya around, Ben.” Callum said, shaking his head sadly, turning and starting to walk away. Ben thought he heard disappointment in his tone, discounting it quickly. Callum was perfect, in a job he could be proud of, there was no chance in hell that he was disappointed a date with a low level criminal had ended badly.

“Wait!” Ben exclaimed, louder than necessary, the word seeming to echo around them, making the leaves on the trees shiver quietly, moving in closer as if listening in; the only witnesses to the conversation taking place.

Callum turned slowly, and Ben didn’t really think about what he was going to do next. He just walked to him and placed a hand on his cheek, edging forward, his lips a breath away from Callum’s. For a fraction of a second, the gap closed, and Callum kissed him; Callum’s hands rising and hovering next to his cheeks. Ben could feel the heat from his palms, and it sent shivers down his spine.

Then, in the same instance, it ended. Callum pulling back, pushing Ben gently away, fingertips brushing against his lips in horror. Ben mourned the loss of feeling. It was the shortest, simplest, most chaste kiss he’d experienced in such a long time, yet he had felt more in that split second than he had since Paul. He didn’t want to think about what that might mean.

“Ben, I… This ain’t gonna work.” He sighed. “You’re the one who just made us leave for… What’s going on?”

Before Ben could stop himself, he’d told Callum the whole situation, leaving out extremely important Paul shaped details,

“Ok, look, I’ll level wi’ ya. My… A family friend is having a 40th anniversary party in a couple o’ month, and I may’ve told her I had someone to bring, as a plus one… Lola thought….” Ben stopped talking, taking a deep breath. “It were a stupid idea, I just couldn’t... Didn’t want to tell her the truth. Sorry for wasting ya time, Callum.”

“Wait. Lola set this up because you needed someone to take to a 40th anniversary party?”

It was Ben’s turn to sigh, his defences rising again,

“Yeah, I know, it were a stupid idea. What would someone like _you,”_ He gestured up and down in Callum’s direction, “see in someone like me. I ain’t worth the time or energy. Whoever you end up wi' will be a lucky guy, Callum.”

“I ain’t that wonderful, Ben. I may be in the police now, it don’t mean I always was.” There was a pause, as Callum shrugged, thinking. “I’ll do it.”

Ben’s jaw dropped. He had no control of it.

“You’ll… What?”

“When’s the party?”

“You… End of September. What? Why?”

“I do this for you, you join me at the Annual Met Ball, at the end of October. Three months, we help each other out.”

“You want someone with a record to go wi’ ya to a police ball? Callum, are you completely insane?”

“Possibly, but that’s the deal. You need a boyfriend for your friend’s party, I need a boyfriend for the ball. We keep up appearances ‘til then.”

Whatever Ben was expecting out of the night, _this_ wasn’t it, however, it was the best and only option he had right now.

“Ya being serious?”

“Deadly.” Callum nodded. “But, rules. Holding hands, hugging, physical contact, fine, we’ll need to keep up appearances. No more kissing. Kissing is important to me, it... has to mean something, when I like someone.”

The implications of Callum’s last sentence hit Ben hard, feeling like a shattering in his chest. The glass there leaving tiny shards, like pin pricks over his skin.

 _He didn’t want to kiss Callum again_ , he told himself, not quite believing his own thoughts. He didn’t want a real relationship; he wasn’t good enough for Callum. This was the perfect solution, and against Ben’s better judgement, he nodded.

“Right then, fake boyfriend,” returning to his default smirk. “What now?”

“Come to mine for lunch tomorrow? 1 o’clock? Flat above the parlour? We can work out how we’re gonna make this believable.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed, gulping past the lump that had appeared in his throat. The parlour flat. He’d forgotten Callum lived there. The flat that held a million memories of himself and Paul, memories that were seeped into every corner, every surface. Memories that would come flooding back, that he didn’t need. Memories he didn’t want to think about. Callum walked away, oblivious to Ben's inner turmoil, turning to wave, stumbling on his own feet as he did so, smiling again now,

“See ya tomorrow.”

Ben smiled tightly in return, rubbing at his face with both his hands, cursing himself, not convinced he'd have the strength to go back inside that flat.

*****

“What do I do, Lo? This is just... What was I thinking?” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back onto the seat of the sofa; he was sat on the floor, in front of Lexi, who was attempting to brush his hair.

“Daddy, sit still!” She giggled, pushing his head back upwards.

“Sorry, Princess.” He muttered, staring at Lola, _help me_ written across his features. Lola sighed,

“I get why you don’t want to go to the flat, Ben. But why don’t you just explain why the flat is a difficult place for you to be. It clearly went well yesterday, if you’ve arranged to see each other again today.”

Ben huffed out a laugh, Lola unaware that _yesterday_ hadn’t gone that well at all.

“Not quite what you’re thinking, Lo. I can’t tell him about... I just can’t.” He sighed. “I’ll just have to suck it up. Go to the flat.”

“Daddy?” Lexi asked, tapping his shoulder. He turned slightly towards her, looking up at her.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve finished. Now turn round so I can make you look like a Princess.” She looked so much like him as she said it, mouth turned up at the corner, shoulders raised. He was reminded that she was very much his daughter.

“I’m meeting a friend in a bit.” He laughed, standing and tickling her, her giggles making his heart burst. “You ain’t putting any make up on me today.”

“Just the tiara. Please!” Lexi laughed, breathlessly, jumping down from the sofa, as Ben let her go, sitting himself down in the vacated seat.

“Go on, then.” He rolled his eyes, never able to say no to her _,_ as she ran up the stairs at his confirmation. He caught Lola's eye, and she leant over and squeezed his hand.

“Callum will understand, if you don’t want to go to the flat. Let him in. He’ll be good for you; you’ll be good for him.”

He nodded, forcing out a humourless smile, and feeling guilty that Lola had the complete wrong idea. Just like Pam had the wrong idea. He was falling down a rabbit hole of little white lies, and he didn’t know where he was going to land next.

“Hmm.” He eventually hummed, noncommittally, as Lexi flew back into the living room like a whirlwind, shoving the plastic tiara on top of Ben's head with a grin.

“Princess Daddy!”

Lola laughed, bringing out her phone and aiming it in Ben's direction. Ben glared, pointing at her,

“Don’t even think...” He was blinded by the phone’s flash, seeing white as he blinked. “Very funny...”

Lola smirked at him,

“Who wouldn’t want to date Princess Daddy?” She said, with a wink.

*****

When Ben had left Lexi and Lola, he had every intention of going to see Callum, confirming their plan, going ahead with the pretence until they’d both got what they needed out of the arrangement. That was, however, until he’d arrived at the parlour, finger hovering over the button to the flat. A process which he hadn’t done in years, and the action itself sending him abseiling headfirst down a cliffside, landing in an empty shell of darkness.

As a result, he was currently sat at the bar of The Albert, drinking to block out the pain. He wasn’t sure how much he’d had to drink, or how long he’d been there, but the colours surrounding him were all beginning to blur and mingle into a mass of murky brown. He’d turned his phone off after Lola’s first attempt at ringing him an hour after he was meant to have been at Callum’s. He was beginning to regret just not turning up, as his thoughts turned to Pam. He was going to have to go home, sleep off his inevitable hangover, and then ring and tell her the truth. Something he should have done in the first place.

“So this is why you didn’t turn up? Lola said I might find you here.”

Ben whipped his head round at the sound of Callum’s voice behind him, confronted with piercing blue eyes staring at him, colder, stormier, than he’d ever seen them. _They were mesmerising._ He watched as Callum blinked, the blue settling now, becoming calmer.

“Thanks.” Callum murmured, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink, and Ben winced at the realisation; he must have said some of his internal monologue out loud. “But that still doesn’t explain why you stood me up earlier.”

Ben gulped, turning back to his drink,

“Don’t matter, Callum. Forget what we said yesterday. Ain’t important. Just gonna tell her the truth. Can’t stand you up if you ain’t actually my boyfriend.” He went to take a drink, spilling it over his hand, as Callum grabbed his forearm and spun him back round.

“You don’t get to do this, Ben. We had a deal.”

Ben felt his eyes narrow,

“Why is this so important to you? You can’t want to willingly spend time with _me._ You’re worth so much more than... I ain’t...” He stopped, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”

Callum grinned, before his expression turned more serious, and Ben felt his resolve wavering,

“So you keep telling me, but regardless, I decide who I want to spend time wi'. I think it’ll be fun. We both know Lola and Jay, it’ll be nice to get to know each other better. What d'ya reckon, fake boyfriend? Don’t stand me up again?” He held his hand out for Ben to shake, and Ben scoffed, before letting himself smile and taking Callum’s hand in his. He tried not to think about how nice the contact felt, as the shake lasted longer than it needed to, neither willing to let go.

“Fine. Fake boyfriend. Take me home, sober me up, and set me some rules.” He didn’t miss the blush that appeared on Callum’s cheeks again, ignoring the butterflies that had apparently decided to make themselves at home in his lower abdomen. Ben diverted his eyes to the floor, before they were drawn to Callum's lips, his own tingling from the memory of their fleeting touch, the night before. Fake boyfriends. _Fake_. Feelings were not required and unwanted, how else was this going to work?

He followed Callum out of the club, back into the square, grateful for the fact he’d had a drink when he came to the conclusion he was being led back to the flat, the root cause of his problems tonight in the first place.

“Wait.”

Callum stopped, eyes questioning, and Ben forced out the words,

“My ex. Used to live in that flat.”

Understanding suddenly appeared on Callum’s face, instantly transforming to pity, making anger flare, a white hot furnace in Ben’s chest. He pushed it down.

“Ben... I didn’t... Lola and Jay didn’t... You dated the Coker’s grandson? I heard what happened to him. You should've said... Do you want to talk about...”

Ben’s jaw grew taut, nostrils flaring,

“I’m tired of talking about it. I’m fine. Just letting you know.”

“We can go somewhere else? To yours? Sit in the park? In the Arches. We don’t have to go up there.” Callum said, clearly conflicted.

Every place he'd mentioned held some form of importance to Ben's old relationship, something that Callum would be unaware of, yet which made Ben’s chest burn. The guilt at possibly liking someone, properly liking someone, for the first time since Paul, wasn’t helping, made worse by the fact that he would never be a viable partner for the man in front of him. He didn’t know what Jay and Lola had been thinking when they’d suggested Callum in the first place; he’d never be good enough.

“Your flat is fine.’ Ben sighed, giving in to the inevitable, needing to get it over with. “It’s just... It was three years this week. It’s making the memories a little harder to deal with.”

“I’m so...” Callum started, reaching out and squeezing Ben’s shoulder; the simple gesture making Ben’s stomach dip.

“Don’t. Don’t apologise. You didn’t kill him; you didn’t even know him. Just... I can’t listen to pity and sympathy right now. Let’s just... Get this over with. Discuss our fake boyfriend rules.” His final sentence came out bitter; he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. Fake boyfriend was all he was good for. Fake boyfriends couldn’t get the other party killed.

Callum sighed, his expression an enigma Ben couldn’t crack, couldn’t make sense of. Nodding, he gestured towards the parlour.

“Only if you’re sure?”

Ben took a deep breath, before striding purposefully towards the door, glancing backwards,

“As I’ll ever be.”

Callum hesitated for a split second, before moving forward himself, unlocking the door and letting them both inside. As Ben finally entered the flat, he gasped, breathing deeply through the tears that threatened to fall. Wishing he had more alcohol with him, as visions of Paul materialised in front of his eyes; kissing him against the door, sitting at the table eating breakfast with Pam and Les, their first time in the small bedroom opposite… he suddenly felt Callum’s hand in his, bringing him back to the present. He stared down at their joined hands, relishing the feel of such a small, simple, innocent action.

“Is this how fake boyfriends comfort each other?” He asked, watching as Callum winced briefly, before smiling,

“If you need it to be.” He said, sitting down on the sofa, pulling Ben gently with him, never letting go of his hand, his thumb stroking gently up and down. Ben couldn’t bring himself to pull his hand away.

“I loved him. He was my first boyfriend. He was my first everything. Pam and Les Coker. It’s their anniversary party. Pam wants me to find someone new, live my life. I told her I had.” He looked at Callum. “If I take you to that party, she’ll be so happy, but I’d be lying to her… I’ve already lied to her. I’m such an idiot.”

Callum’s free hand touched under his chin, lifting his head back up, as it dropped, so that their eyes met.

“You’re not an idiot, Ben, but you’re clearly still grieving. I’ll come with you, I’ll be there for you, if you think it will help.” Callum let his hand drop, and Ben resisted the urge to touch his chin.

“It was my fault, Callum. I couldn’t shut up, I provoked them. Paul, he just wanted me to ignore them, walk away. I couldn’t though, could I? It’s why he’s dead.” He finally pulled his hand out of Callum’s grip to cover his eyes, the heel of his palm pushing hard against his skin, pressing against the tears, not wanting Callum to think he was more pathetic than he probably already did. He wasn’t expecting the arms that wrapped round him, pulling him in to his chest, the hands that stroked his back, whispering gently,

“It’s ok to cry, Ben, and it was not your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”

Ben let himself be held, feeling safe, feeling protected, not used to being allowed to cry freely in front of another person, without being made to feel weak. He felt lips gently brush the top of his head, trying not to focus on _why_. He didn’t realise how much it was needed. For those few minutes, he allowed himself to forget he and Callum weren’t really together, because in that moment, it felt more real than anything he’d had in years.

*****

Ben woke up confused and unsure of where he was, memories of hours before slowly returning, until he sat up in horror. He was on Callum’s sofa. He’d been drinking. He’d told Callum too much. He needed to leave.

He rose, stopping in his tracks when he spotted Callum, stood in the kitchen, humming gently to himself, stirring a pan of something that smelt amazing. He couldn’t bring himself to walk away, leaning gently against the door frame, quietly watching Callum at work. He didn’t want to admit it, but the look he was sending at the older man’s oblivious back could only be described as fond. He smiled softly to himself. It had been an age since he’d felt this at home anywhere. He hadn’t expected it to finally happen all over again in the flat where his journey of acceptance had first begun, with a man who felt nothing for him, who he was going to pretend to date. The whole situation was turning into a surreal, living nightmare, one he couldn’t wake up from, and he’d brought it all on himself.

He sighed, and Callum finally turned, alerted to his presence, dropping the spoon he was holding. He smiled as he looked at Ben, rolling his eyes as he bent to pick the utensil off the floor, and placing it on the worktop behind him. Ben felt himself laugh; memories of their disaster date flashing in his mind.

“Oh, good, ya awake! Thought you’d be hungry, might need to eat off the alcohol! So I made us the chicken pasta I was gonna give ya at lunch.”

The uncertainty must have shown in Ben’s face, as Callum gestured to the pans that were bubbling away gently on the stove behind him.

“Thought we could eat while we discuss how we’re gonna do this. Be fake boyfriends. We don’t have to though. Or I can make something else if ya don’t like it?”

Ben wasn’t used to this. People cooking for him, thinking about him this way. It took him by surprise.

“No. It’s great. As fake boyfriends go, ya the best I’ve had.” Ben smirked, winking as he stood up straight, closing the gate on the wall he'd built around him again, realising he was walking too close to the edge.

Callum’s eyes were dark, a line appearing on his forehead, his words coming out a little shaky,

“As boyfriends go, ya the only one I’ve had.”

Ben’s eyes grew wide, taking a step closer into the kitchen to where Callum stood, eyes looking everywhere but at him. He acted on instinct, compelled to copy the same gesture that Callum had used to support him earlier. He gently squeezed Callum’s hand, where it rested at his side, and touched Callum’s chin with the other, moving his head so that their eyes met.

“Are you sure ya ok with this? We don’t have to...” He dropped the hand that still held Callum’s chin, taking Callum’s other hand in his and bringing them together in the centre of their chests; the movement at odds with the words he’d just spoken.

Callum gulped, and Ben couldn’t help but track the motion as his Adams apple rose and fell.

“Yeah.” He muttered, quiet yet assured. “I help you. You help me. Tell Pam you definitely have a date to her party.”

He smiled softly at Ben once more, untangling their hands, reaching to stroke gently against the side of Ben’s head, before turning back to the food. Ben was becoming less convinced about the _fake_ element of this deal, everything felt far too real considering they hardly knew each other, and it shocked him that the thought wasn’t as terrifying as it had been at the beginning of the day. It had only been 24 hours, but despite this, Ben let his thoughts stray into the land of maybes. Maybe they’d be good for each other. Maybe there was the slightest possibility that this could work.

*****

“So...” Callum said, nervously, as they finished eating, wringing his hands together. Ben tried to stop the word _adorable_ running through his head but failed. “Fake relationship rules. We need them if we want to make this believable.”

Ben was brought crashing back down to Earth, as if he’d been teetering on the precipice and was now hurtling downwards at full speed. Paul, Pam and everything that had happened that had led him to this point came rushing back, and he mentally berated himself. He’d let himself believe that the fiction was fact, and he reminded himself that Ben Mitchell wasn’t worthy of anything as good as this. He gulped past the lump in his throat, and nodded, forcing out the words,

“Yeah. Good idea. You already said, physical contact allowed, no kissing. Kissing is for people you like.”

“No, I…” Callum started, then stopped himself, eyes widening as if he’d said too much.

“No?” Ben felt the little bubble of hope. He popped it before it could get too big.

“I meant… I said… It has to mean something… I...” Callum sighed, face resolute. “No kissing. We can do this, right?”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed, wondering who the other was trying to convince. “Yeah, we can.”

Callum smiled, and Ben felt himself smile back, softly, eyes locked, neither wanting to turn away.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer” Ben whispered, not wanting to break the fine line they were currently walking on. Callum shrugged in response, hand gesturing towards Ben, indicating for him to continue.

“You said you were engaged, came out to her on your wedding day. Why did it get that far? What happened?”

Callum’s face fell, and he turned away. The spell broken holding them in place now broken. Ben instantly regretted asking the question.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean…”

“No, I… My family… It didn’t… It weren’t the kind o’ environment I could be out and proud in, Ben. It was only when I walked away that I could finally be myself. Let’s just say my dad weren’t exactly the tolerant, caring, loving type. He ain’t part of my life anymore.” He grimaced, closing his eyes and shaking his head, as if trying to rid his mind of old thoughts. Ben knew the look; had experienced the feeling often. He reached out his hand before he could stop himself, placing it on top of Callum’s at the other side of the table.

“I get it, you know. My dad ain’t exactly been Father of the year. You’ve met him…” Ben realised too late that his thumb was stroking up and down the back of Callum’s hand, and he pulled back quickly. He was getting too comfortable; Callum made him feel too comfortable. He was beginning to realise that they had both once been on the same page of different stories, ones that had vastly different endings, despite their similar beginnings. Callum had done the one thing he couldn’t; he’d broke free.

“You’re braver than I could ever be, ya know?” Ben offered, against his better judgement. “You did what I never could. I’ll always be my Dad’s disappointment, but I stick around to see it every day.”

Callum frowned,

“I ain’t brave, Ben, and you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. It takes guts to stay.” Callum stood, reaching over and squeezing Ben’s shoulder again, before grabbing their plates. As he made his way over to the sink, he twisted his head back round to look at Ben.

“So, what happens now?”

Ben knew his laugh sounded forced, but he couldn’t help it.

“Did you wanna go for a drink tomorrow? I’m going to the Vic, wi’ Jay and Lola. It’d be nice. If you joined us.” He rushed his way through the offer, holding his breath, and only releasing it again once he saw Callum grin, eyes crinkling at the corners, his face showing open delight, as it had during their only real date at Walford East.

“I’d love to.” He replied, and Ben’s stomach swirled, the blue of Callum’s eyes becoming darker as they stared at each other. Ben’s mind was in overdrive; the constant switch from fake to virtually real was almost too much to bear.

“I’m gonna get off.” He pushed the words out. “I drank too much earlier…”

Callum faltered, mouth opening with a breath, before closing again. Instead, he nodded and turned back to the sink.

“See ya tomorrow then.” Ben couldn’t help but notice the way his knuckles turned white, as he gripped tightly to the worktop edge, head dropping slightly. Ben couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Erm, Cal?” He whispered, as he edged forward slightly. “You ok?”

He placed his hands on Callum’s shoulders, moving closer still until there was hardly any space between Callum’s back and his front. A voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to stop, that this wasn’t a good idea. He ignored it, and pressed himself against Callum’s back, looping his arms under Callum’s and gripping onto his shoulder again.

“Is this ok?” He whispered. “Is this what fake boyfriends do?”

He felt Callum sigh, and lean back slightly against him. The silence stretching out between them.

“I don’t know,” came the eventual response. “Maybe it’s what we, as fake boyfriends, do?”

He twisted in Ben’s arms so they were facing each other, Callum’s hands linking together at the small of Ben’s back. It was the most intimate thing he’d done in such a long time. He leant his head against Callum’s shoulder; he didn’t know how long they stayed in the position, but it felt so right, so natural. Eventually, he pulled himself away.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Callum smiled, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes this time, Ben noted.

“See ya tomorrow, Ben.”

Ben nodded, making his way out of the flat, but allowing the little bubble of hope to take root and begin to grow again.

He took a detour through the park, not quite ready to go back home. Despite how the day had started, he’d enjoyed his time at Callum’s, feeling like he’d been able to put a lot of memories to bed. He hadn’t realised just how therapeutic spending time back in the flat would be. There were new memories he wanted to make now, involving a different man who had entered his life in the most ridiculously unconventional way. He’d spent so long convincing himself he was happy alone, and that he didn’t need anyone special in his life; it was ironic that now he’d found that someone he could imagine doing all that with, they were currently embarking on a fake relationship. He could kick himself.

Grabbing his phone and checking the time, he rang Pam before he could stop himself, heart beating wildly as the ringing echoed in his ear.

“Hello?”

“Pam? It’s Ben…”

“Ben! My sweet boy, I was beginning to think you were avoiding me again.”

“Yeah, sorry.” He mumbled, extremely conscious of the fact he had been. “Just been busy.”

“I’ll forgive you. Now. Tell me more about this new man of yours.”

Ben felt the smile creep onto his face of its own accord, as he told Pam about Callum, about how kind he was, how understanding, allowing himself to momentarily forget it was all a fabrication of reality.

“Oh, I can’t wait to meet him, Ben. He sounds lovely, and he clearly makes you happy. You deserve it, you know that. Paul would be so happy for you.”

It was painful, hearing Pam’s words, knowing he was lying to her, knowing Paul would be disappointed. He said his goodbyes, resting his elbows on the table in front of him, placing his head in his hands. His life was a disaster of his own making, Callum was very much a part of his life now, just not in the way he wanted him to be, and he wasn’t sure how any of it could be rectified without his heart being broken all over again. Rather than think about it for too long, he turned back to his phone, tapping out a message before he could overthink what he was doing.

_Ben: Do fake boyfriends fake text?_

Before he had a chance to regret pressing send, his phone buzzed in his hand, relief flooding through him, making him shiver.

_Callum: Not when it’s midnight and they’re on an early shift so have to be up for work at 5am…_

Ben suddenly felt deflated in a way he couldn’t fully pinpoint. The answer hadn’t been a straight no, yet he somehow had this horrible feeling that he was being brushed off. He shook his head, trying to clear it of all the thought he shouldn’t be having, and rose from the bench. As he headed home, he found himself hoping that sleep would help clear things up; he wasn’t convinced it would.

*****

Ben was jolted awake with the sound of his phone buzzing incessantly. It was early, earlier than usual; he could tell by the semi-darkness that still fell over the room. Grabbing his glasses, he rubbed at his eyes, groaning as he unlocked his phone and noticed the time, 5.30am. The barrage of messages that confronted woke him up quicker than usual, the smile on his face growing, as he huffed out a laugh.

_Callum: Morning. Sorry about last night. I’m looking forward to later._

_Oh. You’re probably asleep. I didn’t think. I hope I didn’t wake you._

_Sorry if I woke you._

_I’ll stop now._

_Sorry._

The barrage of messages that confronted woke him up quicker than usual, the smile on his face growing, as he huffed out a laugh. There was something about the messages that were so very _Callum,_ the clumsiness of his demeanour somehow spilling over into text form.

_Ben: You woke me :p_

_But it was a nice wake up call… ;) have a good day._

_Callum: You too. See you tonight!_

Despite putting down his phone and attempting sleep, it was not forthcoming, and Ben found the rest of the day dragging. He wanted to see Callum, more than he cared to admit.

Later, as he got ready to go out, he spent far longer than necessary choosing the shirt he was going to wear, and walking the short distance to The Vic, he began to panic, completely unsure of how he was meant to greet Callum once they were there. Especially whilst in the company of their mutual friends; friends who were unaware of their deal.

There was so much at stake, so much they hadn’t discussed, made all the more complicated by the fact the boundaries between them were far from firm; a wave of want would hit, collapsing the walls that the pair of them had put in place, then the wave would ebb away again, the tide going out, and the barrier between them would rebuild itself, a little weaker than before. It confused Ben, the constant ebb and flow, and he kept reminding himself that Callum had turned him down multiple times, that it had only been two days since they’d had their first _date._ He kept reminding himself of what he deserved. _Fake. Undeserving. Alone._ Words his subconscious conjured up coursing through him, holding him back, keeping him on track. This arrangement wasn’t permanent; couldn’t be permanent. A temporary fix, a plaster over the cracks of a problem he’d created.

Jay and Lola were already inside and the only thing keeping him stood there, waiting for Callum, rather than running back to the safety of his house, was the thought of hearing the disappointment in Pam’s voice. He’d let so many people down in his life. Far too many to count. He couldn’t bring himself to let down one of the only people who’d ever shown any genuine faith in him. So, despite all the misgivings, all the nerves that were coursing their way through him like fire, he stayed, and ignored the way his heart seemed to skip a beat when he finally saw Callum heading towards him. That smile, wide and bright, aimed in his direction.

“Hey,” he breathed out, softly, as Callum finally came to a stop in front of him, feeling awkward as he came to the realisation, he had no idea how they were meant to greet each other. As a result, they were now stood, staring, unsure. Before he could stop himself, before he could second guess what he was doing, he took Callum’s hand from where it was hanging at his side, and squeezed, reaching up and kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“Is that ok?” He whispered, as he stepped back. “I know you said…”

“More than ok,” Callum’s response came just as gently, as he reclaimed Ben’s hand in his.

Ben gazed down at their joined hands, taking a deep breath, before nodding. It shouldn’t feel this good, holding hands with someone, but Ben couldn’t stop smiling and he couldn’t bring himself to pretend he didn’t know the reason why.

“Before we go in, I need to ask. What do we tell Jay and Lola?” Ben didn’t want to bring up their arrangement, not after that very tangible moment, but he had to know.

“This is as real as we make it, Ben.” Callum shrugged. “For as long as we need it to be.”

Ben felt his eyes narrow, not knowing what to make of the response.

“As real as we make it.” He echoed, in response, with a tight nod. “For as long as we need it.”

He kept hold of Callum’s hand as they entered the pub; this wasn’t going to last forever, and Ben wanted to make the most of it. Callum would tire of needing him, long before Ben felt the same, he knew that, but he was determined to hold on for as long as possible.

It was obvious the minute Lola noticed them entering the pub, noticed their joined hands, by the screech that sounded across the space between them, and Ben instantly felt himself tense up. He felt Callum squeeze their joint hands, and he dared to look up; Callum’s eyes were swirling, a calm ocean of blue, which made him relax. He sighed quietly, as Callum pulled them to the table, finally letting go as they sat down.

“I knew it! I told ya, perfect together!” Lola said, clapping her hands together in delight. “You’ll be good for each other, won’t they, Jay?”

Jay shifted in his seat, rolling his eyes and smirking at them both,

“All I’ve heard all day. Ignore her, yeah. She don’t half get excited.”

Ben felt himself grimace, nodding at them both. Now they were here, he wasn’t convinced it was his best idea, but then he felt Callum’s hand, warm on his thigh, pressing gently, keeping him grounded, reminding him yet again that he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to let this _thing_ go.

“It’s early days, Lo.” He heard Callum respond. “Don’t get too carried away just yet, yeah?”

“What he said.” Ben finally forced out. “We’re taking one day at a time.”

Lola grinned,

“Still, it’s so exciting, my little baby gay and my baby daddy!”

“Lo!” Ben threw his hands up in frustration, held back only by the constant calming presence of Callum’s hand still on his thigh, feeling guilty for lying and guiltier still for feeling things he had no right in feeling. “Give it a rest. Please.”

“Please.” Callum added, a lot calmer than Ben had managed. Ben finally letting out a sigh of relief, when she nodded, and Jay ushered her to the bar, muttering that he’d get their drinks, and mouthing “sorry” in their direction, as he did so.

As soon as Jay and Lola were out of earshot, Callum removed his hand from its resting place, and Ben felt himself mourn the loss.

“Sorry.” He said, quietly, under his breath. “I just… I feel weird lying to them.”

Callum squeezed his shoulder,

“We can tell them the truth?”

Ben shook his head quickly, as much as he hated lying, he liked that they accepted they were together without question. He wanted this to last as long as possible.

“It’s fine. I’ll… It’ll be fine.”

Callum smiled in response.

“Course it will.”

They were still sat, staring and smiling, when Lola and Jay returned, placing their drinks down on the table. They tested their gaze away, Ben noticing Jay’s less then discreet elbow into Lola’s side.

“So, how’s work been?” Callum asked, once they were all seated. “I miss that place sometimes.”

“Miss it? The conversation or the fact it’s so full of life?” Jay laughed, as he took a drink. “You definitely get more action in your new line o’ work, mate!”

Callum shook his head, snorting into his own glass.

“Definitely the in depth discussion. Nah, just how laid back it all was. I love where I am now, I love being able to help people at their time o’ need. It’s just so full on and I never feel like I get enough sleep.”

“Ya definitely won’t now ya wi’ our Ben!” Lola laughed. “He loves an all nighter this one.”

Ben rolled his eyes and glared.

“Yeah, alright, Lo. Seriously, give it a rest.”

Lola shook her head at him, turning her attention back to Callum, and Ben found himself zoning out of the conversation. He spent the rest of the night sulking, more than aware he was being petulant, but whenever he attempted to get Callum’s attention, he was instantly pulled back into conversation with Jay and Lola. Apparently, they hadn’t seen each other in weeks, and most of the talk was around how his job was going. As try as Ben might, the police and the work they did wasn’t a topic he could actively join in with; a constant reminder that the man beside him was far too good for him.

The longer he sat there, on the outskirts of the conversation, the more he could feel the ball of anger inside in his chest becoming greater, being pulled tighter and tighter, combining with the guilt and anxiety about lying, a bitterness creeping under his skin, making it blister; he knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded.

He stood without warning, nostrils flaring, fists clenching, and doing all he could to keep his temper at bay.

“I may as well not be here. Look, enjoy your night, yeah. Not quite sure what planet ya on, Lo. But this,” he gestured forcefully between himself and Callum. “This were never gonna work. We’re too different. This. We’re faking it. I’m going home.”

Lola looked at him, face full of confusion.

“Faking it?”

“Faking. Pretending. Helping each other out until we don’t need each other no more. Don’t act so thick as to think we could work. Mr right side of the law over here, it were never gonna happen. Look at him.”

He turned, hearing Callum and Lola’s voices echoing behind him as he stormed through the pub, followed my hand gripping his shoulder as he pulled open the door. He was spun round, as he stepped onto the street, to be met with stormy blue eyes, flashing dark with anger. It wasn’t quite sunset and the sky above them blazed orange, beautiful and angry, even as it began to darken with thickening clouds.

“What was that about? I thought we’d decided...”

“Ya know what thought did, mate. I can almost hear the cogs turning. It were doomed from the start. Tonight just proved it. A copper and a criminal. There’s no way I can attend any met ball, and ya know it. Who in their right mind...” He stopped as the door to the pub opened, and Jay and Lola appeared.

“Ben…” Lola started, pausing at the sight of Ben’s glare. “Look, I…”

Ben turned, hearing Callum’s quiet, yet firm,

“Leave it,” as he stalked away in the opposite direction.

“Ben, wait. Please.” He slowed, allowing Callum to catch up with him, before continuing back through the square, not certain where he was even walking to, just knowing he needed time to breathe. He was relieved that Callum didn’t attempt to start up another conversation, just walked along side him, quietly, their footsteps falling in line with each other’s; Callum’s presence calming him more than it should, just knowing he was there. He felt Callum’s hand brush against his, goosebumps rising up his arm from the slight touch, and he was transported back to the feeling of that hand in his, before he’d managed to ruin everything. The second time he felt Callum’s hand, their little fingers locked, continuing their walk to nowhere in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Ben whispered, eventually. “I just… I get into my head sometimes, and then I say things without thinking.”

He heard Callum laugh softly beside him,

“I’ve noticed.” Ben felt himself smile, despite everything.

“Not convinced it’s only me that needs the apology…”

Ben groaned,

“Lola will survive, she’s used to me being a twat, like 99% of the time. It’s how I show I care.” He dared to look up at Callum, their eyes meeting as the taller man shook his head, mirth twinkling in his eyes.

“You clearly care about me then…” Callum answered, and Ben stopped walking, turning so they were facing each other.

“Callum, I…” The air around them seemed to thicken, and Ben felt his eyes drop to Callum’s lips, neither acknowledging the shadow that had fallen over them from the now black clouds that covered the sky.

“Ben…” Callum took a small step forward, so that the gap between them became almost non-existent, lacing their fingers fully together. Ben knew what he thought was happening, preparing himself for it; he couldn’t stop it even if he tried. As Callum lent down slightly, eyes never leaving Ben’s lips, Ben felt, rather than saw, the first raindrop land on his forehead. Before anything more could happen, the skies opened, rain falling down in waves.

“Oh for…” He looked up at the sky, as he held tightly to Callum’s hand and pulled, running through the square to the nearest covered alley. Their hair was dripping, clothes soaked through, staring at the sight of Callum in front of him, he began to laugh, unable to stop himself as it vibrated through him. As Callum’s laughter mingled with his own, he leant against the wall behind him, shaking his head,

“What just happened?” He finally managed, looking back to Callum again.

“I think the rain just interrupted something really important…” came the eventual response.

Any remaining laughter died instantly, as Callum’s hand reached upwards and cupped his cheek, thumb stroking softly, making Ben’s skin tingle under his fingertips. Ben copied the gesture, pushing himself back off the wall, and wiping a stray water droplet from Callum’s top lip, breath hitching as he felt the kiss that was pressed softly to the tip of his thumb. Callum’s hand reaching up to hold his hand against his cheek.

“Callum…”

Before Ben could finish his sentence, he was cut off by the feeling of Callum’s lips pressing desperately against his own. He ignored the sirens sounding loudly in his head, ignored the memory of Callum’s words after their first date, _kissing has to mean something, has to be with someone I like,_ and allowed himself to have this. His hands moving of their own accord, gripping onto the back of Callum’s neck, fingers threading through his hair, and pulling him in closer. Kissing Paul was one thing, but he conceded, this was something else entirely. He pulled away, gasping for breath, as Callum’s forehead rested gently against his.

“This… You don’t kiss, Callum. This… It means something, right?”

“Ben, it always meant something to me. I’ve liked you for… God, since the first time I saw you.”

For once, Ben was lost for words, as he took a small step backwards, his brain trying to compute what Callum was telling him; it was if he’d somehow missed out on a vital clue, an important part of the puzzle, one that he should be privy to, yet wasn’t, trying and failing to piece it altogether in his head, and coming up short each time.

“I don’t understand. The first time… I heard what you said, you weren’t interested, not in the slightest?”

Callum shook his head, throwing his hands up in frustration, and gesturing at himself.

“Look at me, 6 foot tall and inexperienced. I’d only just come out… And you were… Everything I weren’t.”

Ben barked out an incredulous laugh, and took another step further away from Callum, widening the gap between them. The smell of Callum’s aftershave still lingering around him, making it hard to think about anything other than how _good_ the kiss felt.

“Everything you… You have no idea. I’m not good enough for you, Callum. I’ll never be good enough.”

“Don’t I get to decide that?”

Ben shook his head, thoughts flying at a million miles an hour, unable and partly unwilling to process what was being said.

“You’re being serious… But you turned me down. That time…”

“I didn’t turn you down, Ben. You were wasted. You didn’t look twice at me sober. I could have been anyone that night.”

“I only wanted you.” Ben let the words out on a breath, only realising how much truth was held in the words until they were out in the air, hanging between them on a severed thread. Callum moved towards Ben again.

“These past few days. They’ve been everything I thought I’d never have. I don’t care about your background, Ben. I care about you.”

Ben closed his eyes, holding his breath and letting it out slowly, focussing on the sound of the rain against the roof of the alley, realising with a rush that now he’d found Callum, he wasn’t prepared to let him go. Maybe, just maybe, this man in front of him could be worth the risk. It could all end in flames, either one of them could end up burnt, or they could both be like phoenixes, rising from the ashes, stronger together. Before he could change his mind, he surged forwards pressing their lips together again, and relishing in the moan that came out of Callum’s mouth.

As they broke apart again, Callum spoke quickly,

“Ben, I know this is… New and not what we agreed, but… Pam’s party, the ball… We ain’t faking anymore, right?”

“God, no!” Ben laughed, as Callum attempted to kiss him again, pushing him back slightly.

“Wait. Maybe I should apologise to Lola… Tell her I was wrong?”

“Hmm…” Callum agreed, nodding, kissing Ben quickly, and softly, making his knees buckle. “You definitely should. But tomorrow. Right now, we’re going to the flat…”

Ben groaned,

“God, yes.” He grabbed Callum’s hand, moving to the entrance of the alley and staring out at the still stormy sky, rain shining silver on the pavement. As he looked up, a single star winked through a small gap in the clouds.

“Thank you, Paul.” He whispered. Feeling, for the first time in a long time, that maybe things would be ok. He was allowed to be happy.


End file.
